


Take a Moment (One Day You'll Understand)

by warpedwars



Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, X-Men (Alternate Timeline Movies), X-Men (Movieverse)
Genre: Angst, Logan (2017), Lots of Angst, Major Spoilers, Major character death - Freeform, Other, no happy ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-30
Updated: 2017-04-30
Packaged: 2018-10-25 16:36:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 779
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10768215
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/warpedwars/pseuds/warpedwars
Summary: He wanted to absorb the memory of his agonizing life like a sponge and hold onto it for as long as God would let him. But God was not always so kind.





	Take a Moment (One Day You'll Understand)

**Author's Note:**

> It was so utterly painful to write this. I adore these characters with all my heart. I am terribly sorry for the angst.

He expected this to go a lot different. Years ago, before Laura even existed, when Logan's lungs weren't so strained and his hair was still an almond brown, he had imagined the way he would go. Scraps of his brain would splat red on the wall like a deranged art piece, and that'd be that.

He didn't expect, that in his final moments, that he no longer wanted to die. He wanted to absorb the memory of his agonizing life like a sponge and hold onto it for as long as God would let him. But God was not always so kind. His journey had been rough; long and rough and painful. Now it was her turn, he thought, to take the pain the universe has to offer. It hadn't been kind to Logan as a boy, or as a man, or as a monster. It would not be so kind to Laura either, as a girl, or as a woman, or as a weapon. If dying wishes were ever really fufilled, he'd wish for that fact to not be as true as it was.

He had yearned almost too much for this moment to arrive years ago. But now here he was, wounds fresh yet hoping he could watch the earth swallow the sun just once more. He hoped she would not make the same mistakes that he had. He wished she would enjoy her time with the people she would learn to love. Logan begged silently to her to not push them away.

She was just a girl now. But there was a fire in her eyes and a strength to the way she carried herself, and Logan could only hope she was ready for whatever would come next. He knew she wouldn't be. No one ever is.

Logan could feel her squeeze his hand, and it was so small. Skin smooth still, nothing like his own. It had grown rough and dry from years of experience. Years of dying without being dead. He was getting tired, so tired. The metal wore him down, body aching. But he didn't want to let go. Her voice was only white noise now. He was crying too; wet, silent, child-like tears. Had it been any other circumstance where Logan had cried, he would have denied it. Laughed it off, even. Because you just don't see the big, bad Wolverine shedding tears all that often. Today, his last day, was an exception.

The dying man realised he would do it all over again. Climb mountains, get run over, bleed, bruise, die again and again and again, if it meant he could have known her longer. If he could relive the moment he laid his eyes on her: his daughter. Logan had cared for her from the moment he met her, perhaps if he could not admit it.

He would take her pain, too. All of it. He was the one dying, but her tears mirrored his, and it made him, out of all the things he could be feeling, sad. One day she would be in his position, too. When her hair has grown the same shade as his own and her eyes were as tired as his were. She would understand, why he did what he did. The way he acted, the way he had been. She would see the way that the world treated people like them, people who were different. Someone, Logan hoped, would be holding her, too. So that she wouldn't have to be alone— feel alone.

"Huh," he says, his limbs heavy, pain fading with every weak, stuttering breath he inhales. And he looked at her, those eyes that looked so much like his own. They carried sorrow. Then he, at that moment, understood. He understood, and it's too late. Logan smiled, at least he thought he did, in a sad, bitter way. Because Charles had been right. 

Charles had always been right.

He took the moment. He took every selfish moment he could spare. It was both enough and not enough at the same time. Logan could not describe a worse feeling, despite the fact that he was dying.

There were things worse than death now. Like the things his death would leave behind.

It was warm, suddenly. It was warm although it was also so very cold. He loved the feeling, the feeling that left as quick as it came. The warmth was fading, but Logan, athough so terribly afraid, figured that it wasn't so bad. She'd be alright, and one day she'd understand. That would be enough. The valley did not seem to make a sound.

"So _this_ is what it feels like."

**Author's Note:**

> I have yet to beta this fic, so some mistakes and odd sentences may be found amongst it. I will get to it soon, do not fret!


End file.
